


Underneath the Tree

by TotalFanGirl221B



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: 31 Days of fic, Christmas Fluff, M/M, New Years
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:51:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 14,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5331479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotalFanGirl221B/pseuds/TotalFanGirl221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas/New Year's short fics, based on this December fanfic challenge: http://drclairefraser.tumblr.com/post/103219532098/we-dont-know-about-you-but-were-all-a-buzz-with</p><p>Mainly Marlas, and a hell ofa lota Christmas fluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dancing on Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Cabin Pressure or any of the characters!
> 
> Merry Christmas!

“ _Douglas,”_ Martin glared at his partner as they entered the rink, holding on for dear life to the wall on the edges. Douglas did not need to hold on to anything, apparently having also perfected the art of ice skating as well as everything else, and simply smirked at his partner who was struggling just to keep his feet firmly on the ground. “Douglas, I _can’t_ do this,” he spoke carefully, as if one false move would cause his downfall on to the ice below. He shivered as he stared down at it, and then at his wobbling legs which he was struggling to keep balanced. This was not good.

“Of course you can, Martin,” Douglas spoke smugly, gliding back over to his partner smoothly as if to rub it in more, and held on to his arm. “Would you like me to guide you?” Martin looked up to the older man, holding his glare for about a second before finally giving in. It wasn’t like he could stand by the side all day, and he was not going to get round alone. He grabbed on to Douglas’ arm tightly, not letting his other hand release the wall on the other side.

                Slowly they made their way around the rink at the very edge, Douglas attempting sometimes to get Martin to let go of the wall, assuring him that he would be safe, but the Captain refused and only held on tighter. How could Douglas _know_ he would be safe? He had blades on his feet – _blades._ Perhaps, if this were roller skating, he would have let go, because wheels can only do so much damage. But blades, well, they can cause some serious injury, and Martin did not like to think about that.

                “Come on, dear, we can’t stay at the edges forever,” Douglas tried to egg him on, gently pulling Martin away. Martin, as much as he tried, could not keep a hold of the wall. Because Douglas was reasonably stronger than he was, and he realised Douglas did have a point; they would just keep going round and round in incredibly slow circles if Martin had any control over what he was doing. Or they would not even be here. Still, Douglas had arranged this, and he wanted to be with his partner.

                “D- Douglas,” Martin eventually spoke up, loosening his grip on the other man’s arm carefully. Douglas looked down to him, quirking an eyebrow as he watched Martin’s hand fall away from him. “I think, I think I can do this,” Martin spoke, not looking up to his partner as he focused solely on the ground around him, pushing himself forwards carefully.

“Yes, it would seem you do,” Douglas grinned, following behind his Captain in order to catch him in case anything went wrong. However, it seemed Martin really _did_ have the hang of it now, going faster and faster at the start of a new circuit. Douglas was soon beside him, laughing at the sudden excitement on his face. Martin couldn’t help but beam, finally having mastered ice skating. “I wouldn’t say you have _mastered_ it,” Douglas chuckled. “I would say those over there have mastered it,” he nodded his head at a man and woman, twirling and jumping, and doing all these ridiculous tricks that made Martin gulp.

“N-now, I don’t think I’ll be able to d-do that, _ever.”_ He looked over amazed, watching as they moved so elegantly along the ice.

“Martin!” Douglas shouted, noticing Martin was not watching where he was going, distracted by the two skaters. The younger man turned, alarmed, and then realised what was about to happen.

* * *

 

“I really, _really_ am very s-sorry, Douglas,” Martin began as they left the hospital. “I- I didn’t _mean_ for it to happen, I was just distracted-”

“Martin,” Douglas halted, holding his working hand up to hush his partner. “I know, you have explained it to me enough times, and it is fine. It was hardly your fault.” He said, a little exasperated. When Martin had gone crashing into the wall, he certainly hadn’t expected himself to be so distracted by that that he would allow himself to go flying forwards, holding his hands out as he fell down which resulted in a sprained wrist. Martin, luckily, had only left with a bruise on his arm, having hit the wall sideways.

“B-but it _was_ myfault, I really am sorry.”

“If this is anybody’s fault it is mine for suggesting such a ridiculous thing to do,” Douglas groaned, moving into the passenger seat of his lexus as Martin got in.

“I did, er, enjoy myself though. It was, was fun up until…” he smiled softly, and Douglas couldn’t help but return it, remembering how panicked Martin had been at the beginning. Slowly, Douglas moved in closer to his partner, feeling his cool breath on his skin as their lips finally touched, Martin moving his hand up Douglas’ neck holding him steady.

* * *

 

“I’m glad you had fun,” Douglas announced upon entering their home, moving into the warm living room to settle himself down on the sofa as he was utterly exhausted. “Because until my wrist has healed, you are certainly going to be doing a _lot_ to make up for it,” he grinned, Martin grimacing at the thought.

“I thought you said it wasn’t my fault?” Martin rolled his eyes, snuggling up beside his husband for warmth, sighing contentment.

“I said it was _hardly_ your fault,” Douglas corrected. “And it was only to make you be quiet.” He smiled, kissing Martin’s forehead gently. “Don’t worry, I don’t have any pianos _I_ need pushing to Devon,” he whispered, making Martin chuckle.

“Shut up,” Martin shoved him playfully, careful not to cause him any more pain.


	2. Mistletoe and Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mistletoe kisses!

“Martin!” Douglas shouted up to the bedroom, anger surging through him. Having just received a call from Emily, asking him where on earth he was when he was supposed to pick her up an hour ago, he was not best please.

“Coming,” Martin announced, not hearing the frustration in his partner’s tone.

“Come _quicker!”_ Douglas growled back, tapping his foot anxiously as he waited in the living room, arms folded. His annoyance only grew as he heard Martin rush down the stairs, stomping as he took two steps at a time. The younger man came in with a smile on his face, obviously not realising that there was a problem.

“What is it?” his smile slowly fell, taking in Douglas’ livid expression. “Has something happened?” he asked worriedly, moving closer to his partner with his arms out as an attempt to comfort him. Douglas, however, stepped back, glaring at Martin.

“ _Yes,”_ he spat vehemently, gritting his teeth as he spoke. Martin was taken aback, bringing his arms back in as he waited for Douglas to continue. “Why didn’t you tell me Emily called?” he asked, raising his voice once more. Martin was confused for a moment, but suddenly he gasped, remembering the phone call he had had just that morning with Emily, telling him that Douglas would have to pick her up a little earlier than planned. He had meant to write it down, Douglas not being in at that particular moment, but completely forgot when distracted by a text from Catelyn.

“Oh, Douglas, I’m sorry. I-I completely forgot, I-”

“Why didn’t you _tell me?!”_ Douglas shouted, refusing to let Martin explain. “How could you _forget?_ Why didn’t you write it down?” he continued to question his partner, yet gave him no time to explain. Martin felt like a fish, continually opening his mouth to answer and explain everything and apologise, but Douglas continued to shout over his every attempt. “You _knew_ this was important to me, Martin. She was only staying for a few days, and now I have to pick her up tomorrow, meaning I’ll have _less_ time to spend with her. How could you _forget?_ Are you such an idiot!” Martin suddenly realised what was being said, and frowned. He wasn’t an idiot. He had made a mistake, yes, but he wasn’t an _idiot._

“I said I’m sorry, _please,”_ Martin spoke calmly after a pause.

“Oh, oh, you’re _sorry_ are you? Sorry doesn’t bring Emily here, does it? Sorry doesn’t make you capable of remembering things for a few seconds so you can write them down!”

“I was _busy,”_

“This was important to _me,_ Martin.”

“I know, Douglas, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t know! How _could_ you know how important this is to me?” Douglas screamed, and finally silence fell. Martin scrunched his nose, trying to control himself, not wanting to satisfy his partner with an answer to such an insult. Douglas immediately realised his mistake, he had gone too far. He could not back down now, though. This was about what Martin had done to _him,_ not the other way around. Martin was in the wrong.

                “I’m going out,” Martin whispered, Douglas barely hearing him. The Captain turned, slowly exiting the room. Douglas watched him, torn between apologising and just letting him leave. He couldn’t let him _leave –_ he _had_ gone too far.

“Martin,” he spoke, calmer than he had been just a few minutes ago.

“Don’t.” Martin demanded, though kept his voice quiet. Douglas stopped instantly in his tracks and watched as his partner walked dejectedly from the house, slamming the door shut on the way out. The older man watched through the window as his husband got in his van, pulling out from the driveway carefully.

 _What have I done?_ Douglas sighed, shaking his head as he groaned, his anger turning quickly into regret.

* * *

 

Douglas glanced at the clock. It had been three hours. Martin had been gone for _five hours._ He glanced at his phone with hope, but still there was nothing. What if something had happened? What if Martin was hurt? What if… Douglas shook his head immediately, not caring to think about those sorts of things. Martin would be _fine._ He was just taking a breather. Soon he would come home, Douglas would apologise, Martin would apologise, and they would go back to normal.

                Would they? Douglas realised just how harsh his comment had been, especially since he knew how desperately Martin wanted children. And, Douglas noted, Martin was very good with children, including teenagers, who even Douglas could hardly fathom sometimes. He smiled, happy that Martin had such a good relationship with Emily, as he had worried at first his daughter may not accept him. She had, though, and Douglas had never seen his partner beam so much. Still, Douglas saw every time he was with Emily that he longed as well for a child to raise himself. Emily, as much as Douglas said they were all family, _was Douglas’,_ and Martin wanted his own family with Douglas as well. Douglas, though, had been wary. He barely had any time with Emily, what would happen if he had another child? Would Emily be pushed out?

                Martin had reassured him that would never be the case. He even told Douglas that until he was sure, they would not discuss it. Douglas would be allowed to make the decision; it was all down to him. Emily, who had found out because Arthur could not keep a secret no matter how hard he tried, had even supported it, to Douglas’ surprise. Eventually, Douglas did to. He thought about it, a _lot,_ and realised it was awful to deprive Martin of the family he so desperately wanted, and he realised he wanted it too. Now, though, he had made it seem like he was against it, and only shoved it back in Martin’s face. He groaned, looking to the clock once more, then to the front door as if it would suddenly open and his partner would come in having forgotten why he left. It didn’t, though.

* * *

 

He heard it shut. Martin had finally returned, having been gone an extra two hours. All he had wanted to do was forget the argument, but now, anger once again ran through Douglas’ system. Martin didn’t even _call._ Douglas had been out of his mind with worry, something could have _happened._ “Ah, he returns!” Douglas announced sarcastically, moving into the living room from the kitchen to freeze, suddenly shocked by the sight.

                “We were trying to surprise you,” Emily smirked, seeing her father so confused. Martin stood behind her, a soft smile on his face. Douglas stared at him, his eyes softening as he realised why his partner had been gone so long. Then his eyes eventually fell on his daughter, who was still grinning at him. “You are such an _idiot,_ Dad,”

“Hm?” he quirked an eyebrow, moving closer to her.

“Shouting at Martin for not telling you, when he was the one to come and persuade mum to let me come over!” Douglas felt his heart beat faster, looking up to his partner, who still stood awkwardly behind Emily. _Thank you,_ he mouthed to Martin, who nodded his head softly and allowed Douglas to then hug his daughter, incredibly pleased she was here.

* * *

 

“Martin?” Douglas spoke softly, entering the bedroom. He was saddened by the sight on entering, his partner sitting on the edge of the bed, head hanging low. “I… I’m sorry for what I said, dear.” He whispered, sitting himself next to the younger man, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly.

“You… you were right, though.” Martin sighed, squeezing Douglas’ hand a little tighter. “I don’t h-have kids, I _don’t_ know how it feels…”

“No, Martin.” Douglas stiffened, regretting ever saying anything to hurt this man, this man who had gone and persuaded with his ex-wife to bring Emily home. This man who cared _so much._ “You _do_ understand, don’t ever think you don’t.” Martin perked his head up so far, looking up at Douglas with confusion and helplessness in his eyes. “I’ve seen you with Emily, you _are_ a part of our family, Martin.”

“I know, I don’t want to seem like I don’t care about you both, Douglas,”

“I know you do, Martin. But I understand; you want a family of your own.” Martin nodded sorrowfully, waiting for Douglas to explain why he just _couldn’t_ do that. “And I think we should,” the Captain sat up slowly, staring his partner in the eye.

“W-what?” he asked, scared that he perhaps just misheard.

“I think we should make a family.” Martin just stared at him, amazement all over his face. “I want to, with _you,_ Martin.” He squeezed Martin’s hand, and the other man soon realised what he was saying.

“Y-you want…?” Douglas nodded. “ _Really?”_

“Of course, mon amour.” Martin beamed, buzzing with excitement now, all of his sadness evaporating.

“I- I… thank you, Douglas.” Douglas shook his head.

“I love you, Martin.” He moved his hand from Martin’s to the younger man’s cheek, stroking it gently. “Look,” he smirked, indicating upwards. Martin followed his partner’s eyes, catching the mistletoe dangling above them, which he was sure was not there before. “Mistletoe,”

“H-how…?”

“Five hours, Martin.” He grinned, the pair know looking back to each other. There was a comfortable pause for a moment, each wondering which would act first, both staring at each other’s lips longingly. Douglas was surprised to find it was Martin, who grabbed his collar with such a force, their lips collided quickly, each kissing the other fervently, moving closer and closer. Martin’s hands ran through his partner’s hair, whilst Douglas worked his own at Martin’s waist.

                Eventually they pulled apart, both smiling happily at the realisation of what they had just agreed to. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Martin asked, going serious for a moment.

“With you, of course.” This only caused Martin to grin further, and Douglas began to wonder how he wasn’t bouncing off of the walls due to sheer excitement.

“Dad! I thought we were supposed to be watching a film?” Emily shouted up from the living room, making the two get back to the here and now.

“We had better go down, or we’ll end up watching some rom-com.” Douglas sighed, heaving himself up. “And, although I thought it impossible, they are even cheesier at Christmas.”

“You’ll get used to them eventually,” Martin chuckled, following his partner from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And thanks to everyone who has commented and left kudos! :)


	3. Holiday Specials

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Cabin Pressure/Sherlock/Endeavour/Death in Paradise
> 
> So I realise this is late and I apologise! But here it is, so I hope you enjoy it :)   
> The challenge was "watching holiday specials", but I altered it a little...   
> And all of the bad opinions about both Sherlock and Endeavour are not mine - I love both shows equally!

“So, which film is it going to be?” Douglas asked, settling himself down on the sofa beside Emily, leaving space for Martin to cuddle beside him.

“Well, I’ve narrowed it down to two,” Emily said, looking between two DVDs she brought over to the sofa and then held up to the pilots. “Arthur Christmas or Miracle on 34th Street.”

“I don’t mind, just pick one.” Douglas shrugged, taking the DVDs from Emily’s hands gently; obviously he and Martin had not come down quick enough to stop his daughter from choosing a cheesy film for them all to watch. Martin just smirked, grabbing one of the DVDs.

“Let’s watch this one,” he announced, holding it up to show them his choice: Arthur Christmas. Douglas gave him a pleading look, but this only made Martin’s smirk widen. “We can always watch Miracle on 34th Street tomorrow.” Douglas glared at him further, but Martin did not seem to care. Emily, confused by the glaring, just took the DVD from Martin’s hand and put it on with a smile.

                “Oh,” Emily began, sliding the disk into the player before settling on the sofa beside her father. “That detective show is putting on a Christmas special this year. Well, sort of Christmas. New Year’s _actually,_ but it’s sort of Christmas.” She muttered, watching the screen as she got comfortable.

“Which show?” Martin queried.

“Is it that ITV one?” Douglas joined in, looking to his daughter. “What would it be about?”

“No, no. That one hasn’t got another series out until January, I don’t think. _Not_ a special.”

“Oh! It’s that one, from the BBC?” Emily quickly nodded, Martin seeming proud of his small victory over Douglas. “The Abominable Bride, that’s what they’ve called the episode, isn’t it?” Emily nodded again.

“I can’t wait,” Emily began, grabbing the remote control for the DVD player, about to press play before Douglas spoke again.

“I don’t know, I think it would have been better if the ITV show _was_ putting on a special.”

“Really?” Martin raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, I definitely prefer Sherlock.”

“But there’s more to Endeavour, yes, that’s it. _That’s_ a proper murder mystery show. With Sherlock sometimes it’s hard to even make a guess at who the murderer is going to be.”

“Maybe for _you,_ but if you watch properly then I think it’s quite simple.”

“They are both good!” Emily rolled her eyes, bored by the bickering. “Can we watch the movie now?” both Martin and Douglas quickly turned to her, remembering the movie.

“Oh, yes, yes. Put it on then,” Douglas groaned. “Let’s get this over with.” Emily pushed him, causing him to smirk, then settled herself down before pressing play.

                “When have you _ever_ figured out who the murderer was?” Douglas asked, halfway through the movie. Emily and Martin looked up, suddenly startled as they were distracted by the movie.

“What?”

“In Sherlock, when have you ever managed to figure out who did it?”

“Is _that_ really what you have been thinking about while the movie’s been on?” Douglas shrugged, and Martin sighed.

“I _nearly_ figured it out in the Hound of the Baskervilles,”

“Yes, _nearly._ Thought so.” Douglas replied smugly, turning his attention back to the screen playing the movie which was currently being ignored.

“Alright, well when have you ever figured out who did it in Endeavour? _I_ don’t remember you managing to solve it before he’s had a crack at it!”

“I figured out that school one, where there was the ghost,”

“There wasn’t a ghost!”

“Well no, perhaps not, but still. I figured that one out, meaning Endeavour is obviously the better murder mystery.”

“Or that it’s just very _simple,”_ Martin replied challengingly, now making himself look to the screen.

“If it was so simple, _you_ would have figured it out, wouldn’t you?” Martin turned at the playful insult, to see Douglas quirk an eyebrow. “Have you solved any of the cases, dear?” Martin sputtered for a few minutes, before turning around, folding his arms indignantly. “Thought not,” Douglas chuckled.

                “Right, are you both done?” Emily piped up finally pausing the film, clearly frustrated with their constant bickering over unimportant subjects; she definitely regretted bringing it up now. “Because I am _trying_ to watch this disastrous attempt to send a present to a child, and am missing out because you two are annoying and apparently have to argue about _everything.”_ She huffed, folding her own arms.

“Yes, right, sorry.” Douglas spoke, eyes turning to the screen immediately to seem as though he were watching intently, despite it being paused.

“Sorry, yes.” Martin mumbled, doing the same as Douglas, straightening himself up.

“Good,” Emily breathed, picking up the remote as she smiled. “Anyway, you’re both wrong.”

“Hm?” they both asked, turning to her with puzzled expressions.

“Death in Paradise is the best detective show, actually. It’s funny, good characters, and you have a good chance of guessing the murderer, but it doesn’t make it too obvious.” She smirked, pressing play instantly, preventing Martin and Douglas saying a word in disagreement.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and leaving your kind comments and kudos! They are hugely appreciated! :)


	4. Frosty the Snowman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Granted, the title is a *little* misleading, but when you read the chapter you'll understand. The challenge is snowball fight, enjoy :)

“Hey, Douglas! Could you come out here for a minute?” Martin called into the kitchen from the back garden, hiding by the wall beside the door. He had never managed to properly get Douglas back for what happened in Xinzhou, now was his chance. He giggled quietly, just waiting.

“What is it, dear?” Douglas strolled out, and then bam! All he could hear was Martin giggling uncontrollably like a five year old, having succeeded in his plan to pelt a couple of snowballs at his partner, who now had a wet shirt and was shaking it to get the snow off. “What was _that_ for?” he asked indignantly, looking up at his husband, who apparently still found this hilarious.

“G-got you!” he smirked, arms wrapped around his front as he tried to control his laughter. “I never got you back for Xinzhou,” he smirked, rubbing his bright red nose as they stood in the freezing cold.

                Douglas did not respond for a moment or two, Martin worrying now that he may have angered his partner more than anything else. “Right,” Douglas spoke, turning around. “If _that’s_ how you want to play it,” he bent down, scooping up a handful of snow and turned back to Martin. “Then take _this!”_ he shouted, throwing the snowball immediately at Martin, who could only yelp before being hit.

“No!” he screamed, still smiling though. Douglas was smirking now as well, grabbing more snow whilst Martin was getting his bearings. “Ah!” his partner screamed, now running around the garden as Douglas pelted snow at him. “Stop it!” he shouted between his giggling, trying to cover himself.

“Never!” Douglas announced, chuckling now himself at the sight of his husband trying to hide himself behind a tree, despite knowing that Douglas had seen him run behind it. “Martin, I _saw_ you; I know you’re there!” he smiled with fondness, Martin trying to stay quiet, but failing on account of his giggling which Douglas could hardly get over. Sneakily, the older man crept in the deep snow over to the tree, managing not to rouse any suspicion from his partner so far. Then, he moved to the side, having Martin now directly in his line of sight.

“Douglas?” Martin turned, confused by the sudden silence in the garden. He regretted turning straightaway, being hit by snow ruthlessly. “G-give me a chance!” he sputtered, trying to run away but gather snow at the same time.

“You had the whole time while you were playing hide and seek!”

“I wasn’t playing hide and seek, Douglas. I’m not five years old,” Douglas quirked an eyebrow, only making Martin laugh more. “Alright, fair point.”

                “Right, that’s enough time,” Douglas grinned, Martin’s eyes widening as if he were a deer in the headlights.

“N-no, that’s not-” he couldn’t continue, seeing Douglas getting ready to throw his next snowball. “P-please, Douglas,” he begged, beginning to run again. “Nooooo!” he yelped, being hit in the back. He fell dramatically to the ground, suddenly bursting into laughter once more. Douglas couldn’t hold back his own laughter at the sight of his partner gasping for breath due to laughing so hard, and he went over.

“What am I to do with you?” he beamed, sitting himself beside his partner despite it being completely freezing.

“We should build a snowman!” Martin announced, hope in his eyes. “C’mon, let’s build a snowman! I love snowmen,” Douglas smiled blissfully, moving his hand to hold Martin’s.

“What has gotten into you?”

“I just love the snow,” Martin beamed. “It hardly ever snowed when I was a kid, and when it did we _always_ built a snowman. And made snow angels!” Douglas chuckled.

“Right, right.” He squeezed Martin’s hand. “How about you let me get changed properly,” he smiled, indicating his shirt, which was hardly keeping him warm, and his red fingers. “I’ll make us some cocoa, and then we will build a snowman?” Martin nodded eagerly. Douglas leant down, kissing his partner’s forehead softly, before standing.

“Come on, then. Let’s get a bit warmer.” He said, pulling Martin up. “Then snowman.”


	5. Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Except, it isn't *that* cold.  
> Today it is overly bundled up for the weather, and finally Arthur makes an appearance! As does Carolyn, but her sort of appearance isn't big this chapter, which I apologise for! There will be more of them both soon!  
> Mainly a dialogue fic today, bit different to the usual.

“Hi, Skip!” Arthur exclaimed as he entered the portacabin, being covered from head to toe in incredible amounts of layers. “Hey, Douglas!” he muffled from underneath his scarf as the two pilots now both looked up from their desks at the ridiculous amounts of clothing Arthur was wearing.

“Arthur, how on earth are you moving with all of that on?” Martin commented, Douglas smirking a little.

“How on earth are you _breathing_ with all of that on?”

“What d’you mean, chaps?” Arthur mumbled, attempting to take his hat off despite his arm now being a lot thicker than it usually was, what with him having about four layers over it. “Ah, yes. I see what you mean,” huffing, he gave up on the hat.

“Take your _coat_ off first, Arthur.” Martin instructed, rolling his eyes at the steward. Arthur didn’t seem to notice, smiling now.

“That’s actually a good idea, Skip. Why didn’t I think of that?” Douglas opened his mouth to comment, but Martin turned and shook his head quickly. The First Officer was a tad disappointed, but closed his mouth nonetheless.

                “Ah, there we go!” Arthur beamed, managing to take every extra layer off and hang it up, barely leaving any room for anything else on those hangers.

“Why were you wearing so much anyway?” Martin finally asked, puzzled. “It’s not _that_ cold outside, is it?”

“Oh no, not really.” Arthur shook his head, then rubbed at his nose. “I just think it’s brilliant,” he smiled.

“Of course you do,” both pilots spoke at the same time.

“Why, though?” Martin pressed on. “It must get really warm, and you could barely move!”

“Yeah, but it’s just nice, isn’t it?”

“That’s not how most people would describe it, I don’t think.” Douglas came into the conversation, shaking his head. “I think most people prefer wearing summer clothing,”

“I definitely do,” Martin nodded.

“Yes, I prefer it when _you_ do too,” Martin frowned at Douglas playfully, and they both went back to the matter at hand.

“But when you’re all bundled up in warm jumpers and coats and hats and scarves it’s _really_ brilliant, because it’s like being at home and snuggled up in a blanket, which is _always_ nice.”

“I guess,” Martin shrugged. “I never really thought about it like that, to be honest.”

“Mum doesn’t either, she thinks it’s annoying because it means it’s freezing outside and she looks ridiculous.”

“Yes, well I can understand Carolyn having that issue.”

“I _can_ hear you, my door is _open,”_ they heard Carolyn from her office calling in, and immediately hushed.

“Anyway, that’s how most people see it. But it’s all snuggly and warm and cosy, I think.” Arthur smiled, and Martin seemed to now agree with him.

“I suppose, when you put it like that…” he considered, Douglas looking at him as if he were insane. “It does seem rather… brilliant.”

“Really, Martin?”

“It _does_ seem nice though when you’re all wrapped up, and it reminds you as well you’re that little bit closer to Christmas.”

“Or that you’ve just _had_ Christmas.” Douglas interrupted, Martin frowning.

“Still, you can’t tell me that _you’ve_ never felt just a _little_ bit more comfortable in winter jumpers and scarves?”

“I’ve felt _comfortable,_ never _brilliant.”_ Martin smiled, looking to Arthur.

“Close enough,” he announced.

                “Tea, chaps?” Arthur realised he _should_ do something other than discuss clothing, and hurried to the kettle when both pilots nodded.

“That would be good, thanks.” Martin smiled.

“Yes, as much as I have enjoyed this topic of conversation, perhaps you should get back to writing the flight plan?”

“You could always do it _yourself,_ you know?” Martin groaned, but turned to his desk to complete it anyway.

“Yes, but then you would be deprived of doing it, and I would not want to take it away from you.”

“Oh, how considerate of you, dear.”

“What can I say? Christmas really _does_ bring out the best in me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and as well for the kind comments and kudos! I always appreciate them, they really, really make my day so thank you for that :)


	6. Family Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I realise this is late and I apologise! Sorry! But here it is, and I hope you enjoy - thank you for all the comments/kudos I have received :) The next chapter will be up shortly
> 
> This is planning a family party

“Douglas, did you say your brother was coming on Boxing Day?” Martin’s head popped out from the kitchen door into the living room where Douglas was reading. He perked up, though, at the sound of his husband immediately. The younger man smiled; Douglas rarely wore his reading glasses, and only would if he _had_ to, despite the fact that Martin had tried to reassure him time and time again that he really _did_ like them, and in fact he thought they made him look more attractive.

“Hm?”

“Your brother,” he said, getting back to the topic at hand. “He’s coming on Boxing Day, right?”

“Oh yes, I should think so. He said he would anyway,” Douglas sighed, setting the book down on the page. “Whether he will or not is another thing, but I suppose I should try and have some faith.”

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t seen him in so long, we aren’t incredibly close as a family unit, to be honest.”

“Oh,” Martin looked a little sad, but Douglas shook his head quickly.

“No, no. Don’t look like that, we occasionally talk, you know, at holidays and birthdays and things like that. We just never really stayed in contact when he went off to live his own life and do _anything_ other than medicine,”

“He didn’t want to do medicine either?” Martin now wandered into the living room, perching himself on the arm of Douglas’ chair.

“God no, he hated that sort of thing. He and my father didn’t get along terribly well, as you can imagine, and so he left as soon as he could.”

“And you never contacted him?”

“Of course I did!” Douglas gave a scandalous look. “Unlike my father I didn’t blame him for not wanting to go into medicine, it would be rather hypocritical if I did, and so I contacted him as much as I could when we were younger. But, as we got older, we sort of drifted apart, both went our separate ways. Isn’t that how you are with Simon?” Martin paused for a moment, and then nodded slowly. “Exactly, it’s not sad. It’s just how it is.”

“Well, hopefully he’ll come.” Martin smiled, patting Douglas on the shoulder. “We’ll have enough food and things if he does, anyway. We’re going to have to buy quite a bit if we want to feed my side of the family, and Emily’s here as well.” Douglas nodded, smiling. “Right,” Martin shook his head, a little anxious at the thought of such a full house. “We’ll manage, won’t we?”

“Martin, I have hosted hundreds of these things, don’t worry.” Douglas reassured him, picking his book back up, and so Martin sighed and went back in the kitchen, not so reassured.

* * *

 

Boxing Day had arrived, the house was full, there was noise and chatter, but it was going _well._ A lot better than Martin had imagined it would be, and he instantly shook that thought out of his head; there was still a bit to go yet, better not tempt fate.

                He looked around, Douglas was chatting to his mother and Catelyn, the pilot wondered what they could be discussing. As he was about to head over, however, there was a knock at the door. How was there still anybody to come? Martin thought, but went to answer anyway.

                “Is this Douglas Richardson’s home?” the man spoke. A man who Martin had never seen before in his life; he was tall, quite intimidatingly tall, actually, and greying. He seemed quite plump, but not incredibly so.

“Er, yes, yes. Who- who are you?” Martin asked, trying to sound as polite as he possibly could. He was sure he had never met this man before, though he worried Douglas may have introduced him once before, as the younger man did seem to recognise something about him, and so he tried not to sound as if he had forgotten him.

“Oh yes, sorry, I’m Geoff,” he smiled cheerfully, holding a hand out. “Geoff Richardson,” for a moment, Martin froze. _Of course,_ he saw it now. _That_ was definitely Douglas’ brother. He quickly shook the hand held out to him and mirrored the other man’s smile, now ushering him in.

“Hi, Geoff, I’m, er, Martin, your brother’s-”

“Husband, yes,” Geoff chuckled. “Sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding, by the way. I was very busy with the company and everything,”

“Oh, oh, that’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Martin replied nervously; having never really met this man he hardly knew what to say or how to act. “Anyway, Douglas is just through there if you wanted to…” he didn’t finish, Geoff already walking through into the living room.

                “Hello, Douglas,” he announced, patting his brother on the shoulder. Douglas turned around, confused for a moment by whoever was interrupting him. He was quite shocked at first, but his confused expression soon turned into a grin as his brother pulled him in for a hug. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been well, thank you. And you? How’s Cath?”

“I’m good, she’s good, the family is good.” Geoff chuckled. “They couldn’t come today, but I didn’t want to let you down again, after not coming to the wedding,” Douglas instantly waved his hand, dismissing his brother’s excuses.

“It’s fine, I knew you were busy.” He smiled. There was a silence for a moment, neither knowing what to say after not having seen each other for so long. “Merry Christmas,” Geoff said finally, nodding his head.

“And you,” Douglas spoke sincerely, smiling.


	7. Hanging All Your Stockings on the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanging stockings is up next! Enjoy and thanks for reading!

“I can’t find it!” Martin shouted from the cupboard upstairs, searching through boxes and boxes of Christmas items and decorations.

“It has to be in there, dear!” Douglas shouted from downstairs, distracted by his own task of trying to hang some of the hanging decorations in the living room. “Look harder!” Martin groaned on hearing that, rolling his eyes. He _had_ looked harder; this was in fact the third time he had searched these boxes. It _definitely_ was not in there, despite him being sure he placed it there when he moved in.

                He gave up, shoving the boxes back inside the cupboard before slamming the door shut. He rubbed a hand across his forehead, exhausted from simply searching and searching, trying to make his way through the winter wonderland boxes. All he had wanted to find was his stocking, the stocking he had owned since he was about five years old. Why he still had it, he didn’t really know, since it was nearly all worn out and tattered. Still, it was the sentiment; his parents had bought him that stocking, and his father put a orange, sugar mouse, and chocolate coins in it _every year._ It reminded Martin of him, and it comforted him to have it every Christmas, even if there would only be chocolate in it. Now, though, it had gone missing, and Martin was upset and angry. Why he was so attached to the object he didn’t really know; his father had given him a lot of meaningful things which he kept safely and made sure nothing ever damaged them, but then there were things like this stocking that _should_ be easily let go of, but for some reason, he wasn’t happy about doing so. He wanted _that_ stocking.

                He sulked into the sofa, leaning on the arm as he sighed. Douglas hadn’t noticed him come down the stairs as he was in the kitchen, and so didn’t see the miserable state he was in. He wondered where on earth the stocking could be, being sure that he _had_ packed it with all of the Christmas things and so it _should_ be in there. He tried to forget about it, getting more and more frustrated as he tried to figure out where it could possibly be.

                “Oh, did you find it?” Douglas asked hopefully, settling himself down next to Martin, who didn’t bother to acknowledge him. The younger man shook his head sorrowfully, and so Douglas brought him close to him.

“I don’t know where it is!” Martin almost shouted in frustration. “I’m _sure_ I packed it with the rest of those things! Where else would it be?” he ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Douglas soothed him. “It’ll turn up.”

“How do you know?” Martin muttered sulkily. Douglas sighed, and stroked the younger man’s hair, the younger man’s head lying on his shoulder.

“If it doesn’t we can always buy another one, it isn’t the end of the world.”

“I don’t _want_ another one,” he replied angrily, pushing Douglas away. Douglas was slightly confused by the sudden anger sweeping through Martin, but couldn’t ask about it as Martin spoke again. “I _wanted_ the one I packed, the one I brought.” He shook his head. “I’ve had that since I was little!”

“Does it matter that much?”

“Of, of course it does!” Martin jumped up, shouting now. “I _loved_ that stocking! Every year my dad would put everything a stocking should have in it, and… and it just, it _reminds_ me of him.” He quietened down now, becoming less angry and more upset. “It’s stupid,” he shrugged.

“No it isn’t,” Douglas shook his head, grabbing the younger man’s hand when he came close enough. “How about I help you? If we both look then it’ll increase the chances of finding it,” the older man suggested, standing up now. “We’ll turn this place upside down if we have to!”

* * *

 

“Martin.” Douglas spoke through to the landing from the bedroom. “Martin, could you come here a moment.” He sounded a little exasperated, and Martin didn’t understand why; they had been looking for only about ten minutes, Douglas had started off with one of the smaller rooms so he now moved to the bedroom, whilst Martin looked for about the hundredth time in the storage cupboard.

                Martin walked in slowly, his expression suddenly forming into one of shock and confusion as he wandered in, seeing Douglas with his stocking held up in his hand. “H-how? Where?” he beamed, moving closer.

“I found this, Martin, in our wardrobe. Quite visible to anybody, actually.” Martin was confused, looking a little flustered as he worried he had annoyed Douglas by making such a fuss over nothing.

“What? How? I don’t, don’t remember…” he paused, his words fading as he remembered that just a few weeks ago _he_ had put that stocking in their wardrobe. He had taken it from the cupboard and placed it in the cupboard. “I… I was hoping I wouldn’t forget where it was then,” he bashed. “I didn’t want to have to go through all those boxes again,” he smiled awkwardly at the man who was now glaring at him.

“I see,”

“S-sorry,” he shrugged nervously.

“Yes, well.” Douglas handed him the stocking, and he thanked him quietly. “You have it now,” Douglas grinned when he was sure Martin couldn’t see.

* * *

 

“Yes, that is _perfect!”_ Martin beamed, staring at the three stockings now hanging from the mantelpiece; his quite ugly compared to Douglas’ and Emily’s yet still, it was the sentimental value that counted.

“Are you sure?” Douglas said, eyeing up the worn out stocking, but he smiled when the response he got was a fervent nod of the head as if he could not see the inside beauty that Martin could. “Right, well, I have the sugar mouse, chocolate coins and let’s not forget the orange,”

“What?”

“For the stockings, isn’t that right? I’m sure you said-”

“Yes, but, you were actually… you actually _listened?”_ Douglas smiled lovingly at his partner.

“Of course, dear.”

“Thanks, Douglas.” Martin smiled back, then pulled the older man in to hug tightly.


	8. O Christmas Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm late and I apologise!  
> This one is decorating the tree :)   
> Thanks for the kind comments/kudos

“Martin, what on _earth_ is _this_ doing on the tree?” Douglas asked, a little baffled as he held up a miniature plane decoration. As they decorated the tree, both given allocated sides, Douglas looked over to Martin’s half and realised that the decorations he was using were not the ones he remembered buying. Martin perked his head from his side of the tree and instantly blushed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, er, that…” he paused, trying to think of a good enough excuse, but there really wasn’t one. Douglas rolled his eyes, now moving to take in all of Martin’s side of the tree.

“Dear, we simply cannot decorate the tree with _planes.”_ Martin made to interrupt, but Douglas stopped him immediately, holding his hand up. “It’s not Christmassy, we need baubles and tinsel and things like that! I don’t want to look over to our tree to be reminded what I do for a living.” He reasoned.

“But look at them!” Martin beamed, almost snatching the plane decoration from Douglas. “They’ve been made so they are the _colours_ of Christmas, and they are nice!” he argued, trying to make a good enough point. Douglas’ expression told him he wasn’t succeeding, and so he continued. “Nobody’s even going to look on this side of the tree anyway; nobody will know,”

“ _I’ll_ know,”

“And the problem _is?_ Honestly, Douglas. You ask for my help and then you won’t let me decorate the tree how _I_ want as well!” Martin commented, attempting to make his partner surrender.

“Don’t try and guilt trip me, I know how it works; I have a daughter, don’t forget.” Douglas smirked as Martin huffed. “But, I do see your point,” he sighed, giving in when he saw the smile grace Martin’s face once more. “You can’t have _that_ many, though.” He laughed, pointing to the abundance of planes on that side of the tree. “I suppose a few won’t hurt. If that’s how you _really_ want our tree to look.” Martin nodded fervently, and so Douglas gave in, going back over to his side of the tree. Nobody would see it, he knew, as it was on the side nearest the wall. But, just in case, he knew he may have to just turn the tree a _tad._ Just in case. Martin would know they were there, it wouldn’t matter.

* * *

 

Martin crept down the stairs that evening, Douglas fast asleep in bed. He grinned, moving over to the tree, which he had seen his partner turn around so nobody would see _any part_ of his side. Well, he would obviously have to do something about that. He smirked, trying to silently turn the tree around in order for his side to show more than originally planned.

* * *

 

Douglas woke with a start, hearing the crash downstairs. His heart pounded as he sat up, only to find that the space beside him was empty. _Martin?_ He didn’t hesitate to rush out of bed and down the stairs, following where he assumed the sound had come from: the living room.

                He froze at the sight, then for some reason, burst into laughter. Martin was apologising over and over when Douglas came down, explaining what he had done and why, and now stopped in utter confusion. “Douglas? Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” He said, smirking as he managed to stop laughing at the sight before him. The tree lay on the floor, decorations and baubles in pieces. Martin had been trying to get back at Douglas, and had somehow destroyed the tree in the process. And, for some reason, Douglas found it hilarious.

“What is it?” Martin said, not finding anything about the situation remotely funny, and now only becoming self-conscious. Douglas saw the worry in his partner’s eyes and so stopped himself from laughing, and went over, placing a hand on Martin’s arms.

“Well, now neither of us have a side of the tree to show people,” he smirked, waiting to laugh until Martin found the funny side. Which he did, mirroring Douglas’ smile.

“Y-you’re not annoyed? I just _ruined_ the tree, and everything with it!”

“Admittedly, it’s not what I wanted to see when I came down here. But, I also thought we were being robbed, so I suppose this is the better of the two.” The pair smirked, both falling into laughter, ignoring for now the fact that they would have to buy a new tree and decorations (including aeroplanes).


	9. Christmas Dinner

“I can’t do this. I cannot do it anymore, Douglas, I’m done. You were right, I was wrong, just _help me!”_ Martin muttered quickly, slamming the oven door shut and then flinching at the sound. He should never have agreed – rather _insisted –_ on making the Christmas dinner. Perhaps it had gone right for him in the past, but in his attic he didn’t have the full thing, and he wasn’t doing it to impress anyone! Now he had Douglas and he really wanted to show him he could cook _something._

“Oh, but Martin, I thought you were brilliant at cooking! Isn’t that what you said? Something about you perhaps becoming a professional chef…?” Douglas joked, Martin just glaring at him as he stood in the kitchen doorway, watching the chaos from a safe distance.

“Please, _please_ Douglas.” Martin pleaded, now at the end of his tether. “How do people _do it?_ This is more stressful than _flying!_ This is more stressful than _everything!”_ he raised his voice, almost tearing his hear out.

“I’m sorry, Martin. You wanted to do this alone, I don’t want to take such a privilege away from you. I know how you like to be in command,” the jokes only angered Martin more, but Douglas was having a grand old time.

“ _Douglas. Enough is enough.”_ The younger man stood close to the other man, their noses only inches apart from each other, speaking through gritted teeth. “The turkey is _burnt,_ the stuffing is _burnt,_ the vegetables, the potatoes and the pigs in blankets are, yes, you guessed it, _burnt.”_

“How on earth did you manage to do all of that?” Douglas scoffed, and Martin’s expression went back to pained and panicked.

“I don’t _know!_ I don’t understand it! How do people cope with this sort of thing? Why has it happened?”

“So many questions, Martin,” Douglas tutted, shaking his head. “Instead of posing questions which nobody has the answers to, aren’t you going to focus on the dinner?” Martin groaned frustrated, looking around the kitchen at the mess he had made.

“I don’t know how! Please, Douglas, _please!”_ he begged once more, even putting his hands together, nearly resorting to kneeling on the floor. “I need your help,”

“Oh, alright then!” Douglas threw his hands up, smiling his victory smile. Martin knew he would regret this later, but he didn’t care so much about now. All that mattered now was making dinner without burning the house down, Douglas’ growing ego could wait.

                “I honestly don’t know how you got it so wrong, dear. Look,” he said, sliding his fork on to his now empty plate after eating a delicious meal prepared by a _professional._ He smirked, looking to his partner who was full and content, clearly not bothered that he had failed. “I managed to do it, without burning a single thing – not even a _sprout.”_ Martin simply rolled his eyes, putting his own fork back on to the plate.

“Fine, fine. I get it, you’re the better chef, you’re the best at _everything!”_ Martin exaggerated.

“I’m glad you finally admit it now, Martin.”

“Go away,” the younger man smirked, throwing a napkin at his partner with very little effort. “Anyway, I think that because you are so good at everything, it would be best if _you_ were the one to clear up. I mean, who knows what I might do? I could smash something.”

“Don’t you dare,” Douglas shook his head. “I saved you from a cooking disaster! You were a damsel in distress, pleading and pleading for a good knight to save you. Does a damsel in distress make the knight pay for such a noble deed? No, she will repay him in _any_ way she chooses, perhaps, with a grateful kiss.” The other man smirked at the hint, and went over. Douglas smiled, leaning in as Martin ducked his head to kiss his partner.

“Well, in that case,” Martin whispered, moving slowly closer. “You’re still doing the washing up,” he smirked, suddenly moving back up and rushing out of the room quickly.

“Martin!” Douglas shouted, getting up himself. Martin had already run upstairs, though, apparently, and so the older man sighed, picking up the plates left, smiling.


	10. You Sexy Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot chocolate!

Douglas heard as the front door finally opened, Martin coming in from the freezing cold after just having completed his last van job of the day. He smiled to himself, wandering to go and greet his husband after such a long day. “Hello, dear,” he went through to the hallway, and was stopped in his tracks at the sight of Martin. He was completely frozen, shivering as he removed his coat and shoes. Douglas immediately moved towards him, holding his arms out to hold him.

“I- I didn’t r-realise it was so c-cold,” the younger man shivered, but Douglas hushed him.

“Come inside,” he said, ushering him in through to the living room. Martin headed for the sofa, but was stopped from sitting down by the older man. “How about you go get something warmer on and I’ll go get you something to warm up?” Martin nodded, still shivering as he wrapped his arms around his stomach to gather up warmth. “Go on then,” he smiled, almost having to walk Martin towards their bedroom as he was hesitant to lose the warmth Douglas was giving him.

                As soon as Martin entered the bedroom he saw the bed and dropped down on to it, resisting the urge to just jump into it and gather the blanket around him. He knew he shouldn’t; he had been out working for the majority of the day and Douglas had barely seen him. Plus, if he slept now, he knew it would be hard for him to sleep later, and he didn’t want any more restless nights. So, he did as Douglas asked; shivering, he grabbed his warm nightclothes and put them on as quickly as possible, almost falling over as he struggled to get his legs into the right part quickly enough. He sighed, sitting himself back down on the comfortable bed. He turned to the headboard and gave it one last wistful glance before huffing, gathering all of his remaining strength and leaving the room.

                He entered the living room, noticing immediately that Douglas had sorted the fireplace out, warming the room considerably. He moved closer towards it, sitting himself in front of it but not too close, and brought his knees close to his chest as he smiled, content. He snuggled his chin into the gap between his knees and chest, watching the fire spark as a blanket was draped over him. He looked up quickly and nodded a thank you to his partner who wrapped it closer around his freezing frame. “That’s d-definitely cosy, th-thanks.” He smiled, but Douglas didn’t stay for long, entering the kitchen. Martin’s brow furrowed in confusion, he attempted to take a look inside only by leaning back a bit, not wanting to leave the warmth provided by the fire. Hopeless though, he huffed, settling himself back to watching the fire.

                Douglas soon came back, Martin looking up straightaway as he heard his partner’s footsteps. He grinned when he noticed the cups in Douglas’ hand, smelling the rich chocolate as he came closer. Douglas smiled too, sitting himself next to Martin with a little more trouble, though he didn’t mind that. “There you go, dear.” He handed it to him carefully, Martin reluctantly letting a hand slip from the blanket so it fell from one shoulder. As soon as he had it though, and could smell it, he didn’t care about the blanket. He wrapped his hands around it, the blanket dropping gently from the other shoulder now. The cup radiated enough warmth, however, and he inhaled the smell and sighed contently as the heat gently reached his face. Douglas did the same too, Martin could see from the corner of his eyes. The older man had managed to perfect the making of the hot chocolate, which Martin had thought was a simple task. All you really needed was some powder and stuff, it wasn’t difficult. But no, Douglas had other ideas. He used the richest chocolate, cream, vanilla and all sorts of ingredients that made Martin warm inside. “Are you any warmer now?” Douglas asked, bringing Martin from his cosy, sleepy state as he wrapped the blanket back around his shoulders in such a position to ensure it would not fall again.

“Definitely,” Martin sighed, nodding softly.


	11. My Secret Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secret Santa!  
> Carolyn and Arthur finally make a proper appearance!

“And _why_ are we doing this again?” Martin groaned, leaning back into the chair. This had been the last thing he had expected to hear on standby, especially since everybody had clearly hated it last year. Well, everybody except Arthur, but he loved everything so he didn’t really count.

“ _Because,_ Martin, Arthur has already put the names in the hat. Trust me, I don’t want to do this either,”

“Why didn’t you just tell him no?”

“You think I didn’t? You think I didn’t remind him how terrible it was last year, how much we all _hated_ it and how much we did not want to do it? If you want to try and get that through to him then be my guest.” Martin groaned, knowing if Carolyn wouldn’t be able to persuade her son to let Secret Santa drop, then he definitely couldn’t. It would just _have_ to happen.

                Before they could discuss it further, Douglas and Arthur came in, shutting the door quickly before the cold made its way into the portacabin. Douglas rubbed his nose, almost shivering from the freezing cold outside, but Arthur just beamed in his hundreds of layers, although his nose was bright red. “Yeah, like Rudolf!” he smiled when Douglas had commented on it outside, and the First Officer had no real idea how to respond to that.

“Arthur here informs me that we are doing Secret Santa again this year,” Douglas rolled his eyes as he handed Martin the coffee he had picked up for him, the coffee machine having broken that morning after Arthur had decided to “experiment” with the idea that he could make an even _nicer_ coffee.

“Yep, isn’t it brilliant, Skip?” Arthur beamed, sipping his own coffee as he handed Carolyn one.

“Er… if you say so, Arthur.” Martin tried to smile at the idea, but still couldn’t bring himself to do so. He wasn’t great at giving presents, in fact, he thought his present last year had been pretty good at the time. Looking back on it now, though, perhaps it wasn’t. Although, to be fair, he didn’t really have enough to create the _perfect_ present. “Why again, though? I mean, it was fun _once.”_

“Yeah, Skip, but Herc wasn’t a part of it last year! If he joins in it’ll be even better!”

“Does Herc know about this, Carolyn?” Douglas smirked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yes, as a matter of fact he does.” Carolyn replied. “In fact, he may have slightly encouraged it.”

 

Arthur brought the hat out, not noticing the hateful looks it was being given. “Right, just pick a name!” Arthur smiled, holding the hat out to the Captain first, who hesitantly reached out and picked one of the folded sheets out. He grimaced as soon as he read it to himself, _Carolyn._ What was he going to get for Carolyn? He sighed, pretending to be pleased with the selection when looking up to the rest of the crew.

                Douglas picked next, smirking when he read his sheet. Herc. Easy. He could get him anything really, and wouldn’t feel too guilty if Herc didn’t seem to like the gift. Carolyn chose next, also pleased with her selection. Douglas. After what he had “given” her last year, she could give him anything without any real effort, and he could hardly argue with her. It’s not as if he would expect something given out of thought, and _he_ worked for _her,_ so he would not dare argue. Well, he would, but would soon be put in his place. She smiled, placing the sheet in her pocket discreetly. Arthur next, who didn’t mind who he got, knowing he would be able to get them something brilliant! He chose slowly, despite their only being two sheets now to pick from. Of course, when he did eventually picked, he frowned seeing his own name scribbled on it. “Er, I picked myself out… What do I do?”

“Just pick the other one, Herc will have to have that one then.” Martin instructed, and so Arthur picked the next sheet out, throwing the other one back in the hat for Herc to pick out later. He smiled when he saw ‘Skip’ on the next sheet, thinking about the amazing present he had been given last year as part of the Secret Santa. He would have to give his Skip something as equally as brilliant, he frowned, thinking hard.


	12. Round the Christmas Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unwrapping gifts!

“Here _you_ go, Hercules. I do hope you like it,” Douglas smiled, handing his Secret Santa gift to Herc. He _had_ wanted to get him something ridiculous, but Martin had somehow found his sheet, uncovered his plans and told him that he couldn’t. Douglas listened, of course, and promised not to. Martin, though, knew not to trust _everything_ his partner said, and so told him they would go shopping together. Partly to make sure Douglas got something Herc would actually _appreciate,_ and partly because he really needed help deciding what to get for Carolyn.

“Ah, a watch. Thank you, Douglas,” Herc smiled gratefully, looking at the seemingly looking expensive piece of jewellery. “Or, should I say, thank you Martin.” He turned to the Captain who blushed automatically, rubbing his arm. Neither of the pair corrected Herc, and so Martin simply smiled and nodded.

                Carolyn then handed her gift over to Douglas which also happened to be a watch, Douglas noted as she handed it over. Carolyn hadn’t wanted to get him anything special, after all he was just her employee and his last gift had not been the best gift she had ever received. However, Hercules stepped in, apparently taking this Secret Santa business a lot more seriously than Carolyn or Douglas had.

                “Carolyn, I, er, I hope you like it.” Martin smiled nervously, handing the small gift over. Douglas had been no real help when choosing a good gift for his boss, and often suggested awful presents to hand over to her, which Martin really did not appreciate, constantly reminding Douglas that it was serious. Carolyn, though, seemed to like her gift, which was a bracelet Martin had purchased whilst searching as well for Herc’s present. Clearly Martin had put a lot of thought into it, and she appreciated it, especially since she really hadn’t known what to expect when she found out Martin was her Secret Santa.

                Herc then handed off his present to Arthur, it being a build it yourself model aeroplane which Martin had suggested. Herc knew what Arthur would like, of course, now living with the boy, but he had definitely needed some advice on which would be the better one, and knew only one person who would be able to give him such advice. “Yes, that one is _perfect,”_ Martin commented from behind him as he scrolled through the website in search.

“Aren’t they all the same?” Herc had asked, but was immediately shot down.

“Sort of, but no. Not really,” the younger man attempted to be kind, as if Herc’s comment had not sounded utterly ridiculous in his mind, and explained exactly why it had to be _that_ plane rather than any other. As it turned out, Martin was right. Arthur beamed at the gift once he had unwrapped it and thanked Herc gratefully, staring at it. Herc mouthed a thanks to Martin who blushed again awkwardly and nodded his head as if it had been no problem.

                “Skip, here’s yours!” Arthur smiled hugely, handing over the gift. Martin looked at in confusion for a moment, taking in the bright red stocking he had just been given and feeling it as he heard things move inside.

“Oh, a, er stocking. Th-thank you, Arthur.” He smiled nervously.

“Look inside!” Arthur instructed, moving over to show Martin everything he had put in, like Skip had the year before. “I know you got me this last year, but look – it’s all the real things! I couldn’t think of anything better!”

“Really?” Martin looked up in disbelief.

“Mhm.” Arthur nodded fervently. “I loved it last year! I didn’t think I’d get you anything better than that, but now it’s sort of a little bit better, isn’t it?” Martin smiled down at the present, feeling a little touched.

“Y- yes, yes. Thanks, Arthur. It’s just what I wanted,” he thanked the younger man, speaking sincerely.


	13. Walking in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making a snowman!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knoooooow this is super late and I am very, very sorry!

“Oh, hi chaps!” Arthur exclaimed as he saw the two men opening his front gate shivering. Arthur, they both noticed, was not shivering at all in his bundles and bundles of clothes. His nose and cheeks may have been bright red, but he didn’t seem to notice or care for that matter.

“Hello, Arthur.” Martin shivered, his teeth chattering as he nodded, closing the gate behind them. Taking a step backwards before turning, he didn’t see that Douglas had stopped in his tracks up the path to Carolyn’s home and so crashed into him, luckily not hurting himself so much. “Douglas, what on earth-” he muttered, turning immediately, his eyes falling on the reason why the First Officer had yet to move to the front door.

“Arthur, how…?” Douglas found himself asking as he scanned the front garden; the other day when the two had been here it had been covered in clean snow yet to be stood on, and now in its place were several snowmen with smiles on their faces and carrots for noses. _So many snowmen._ “Surely you didn’t have enough snow?”

“Yes well, I’ve been busy.” Arthur began, turning as well to face his brilliant creations which were baffling the two pilots. “I used up all of the snow here, so I just got some from around the street.” He explained, as if it were such an obvious thing for a thirty year old – almost thirty one year old – to do.

“B-but _how?_ We were only here the other day! Y-you couldn’t have p-possibly made them all in that time.” Martin reasoned, still shivering, though more curious about the snowmen to care.

“I don’t know,” Arthur shrugged simply. “I just really like building snowmen, so I did.”

“So you did,” Douglas commented finally after a silence.

                “Are you three actually going to come in or would you rather freeze to death? I don’t mind either, just as long as I know.” The pilots suddenly turned to face Carolyn who was stood inside by the front door, almost shivering despite not having been out for even five minutes.

“R-right, right.” Martin sniffed, remembering just how cold it was, being distracted from the snowman army in the garden. A snowman army would _just_ be what Carolyn needed, he grimaced at the thought.

“Come _on,_ then.” Carolyn huffed as they still stood outside, not budging. As soon as she spoke there was no hesitation, each man trying to get to the door before they _did_ actually freeze completely. Arthur bounded through first, managing to get past Douglas and Martin who were too distracted by the cold to move any quicker. As soon as they entered the living room though, they were hit with the heat and sighed contentedly, making themselves comfortable on the sofa. Martin smiled then, noticing the snowmen through the window, and then looking to Arthur who was quite proud of himself.


	14. It's Gonna be a Cold Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Receiving horrible presents (sort of)!

“Are you alright, dear?” Douglas asked, perking his head up when he heard Martin sneeze for about the fifth time in a row. Martin turned, ready to shrug it off as nothing before sneezing a few more times. The older man watched him, waiting patiently for him to say something, that something being his acceptance of having received the cold from Arthur.

“F-fine,” Martin finally managed, attempting to sniffle without his partner noticing. It didn’t work, though.

“Martin, please.” Douglas sighed, resting his book down on the arm of his chair, looking to Martin seriously. “Will you just admit already that you have caught the cold from Arthur, as horrible as it is, and _go to bed.”_

“Er…” Martin stared at him for a moment, considering his options. He really didn’t _want_ to have a cold, especially since it was so close to Christmas. He also didn’t want to admit it, because then Douglas would win and he would have to stay in bed. “I _suppose_ I _could’ve_ c-caught Arthur’s… Arthur’s…” he paused, tilting his head back a little, suddenly letting himself sneeze dramatically again for another minute, followed by a coughing fit. “Fine.” He surrendered croaking, refusing to look at Douglas through his watering eyes.

“Finally,” Douglas almost cheered in triumph; he thought he was stubborn, yet watching Martin struggle through the past few days _refusing_ to even admit that there was a chance he had caught the cold, he realised he wasn’t _twice_ as bad as his husband.

                Smiling comfortingly, he went over to Martin and held a hand out, which the younger man accepted with some reluctance. “You need _rest,_ dear.” Martin had grumbled and rolled his eyes, which had only made him feel worse as Douglas guided him to the stairs. He held on to his partner as he stumbled up the stairs, thinking now that perhaps bed wasn’t such a bad idea…

                He put on his cosy pyjama clothes before sliding into the bed slowly, Douglas having gone down the stairs to get him some “cold supplies”. Martin had been curious, but hadn’t the energy to ask and so simply waited as he lay in bed, arm across his forehead which was now pounding. Gosh, how had Arthur managed to _cope?_ Well, that was Arthur. Martin was Martin, and he was now realising how painful this cold was. He had obviously noticed the symptoms as they arrived, but tried not to pay them too much attention. Now, as he lay in bed, it was all he could seem to do as he sniffled and coughed.

                Thankfully Douglas wasn’t too long getting these supplies, and Martin leaned up the slightest to catch sight of what his partner was laying out for him. Douglas was clearly very serious about this, focusing as he put everything in place. The only instance in which he had spoken to Martin was when he entered the room just to ask if he was doing alright, to which the younger man could only nod slowly.

                Martin looked up, noticing now the hot chocolate on the bedside table, along with painkillers and a small glass of water to take them. There was a box of tissues as well, fresh and full, unlike the one Martin had been using. Then there was a hot water bottle which was incredibly warm and cosy, making Martin close his eyes as he felt the warmth radiating through him. Then, the best part, was that Douglas was sat beside him, hand on his forehead to check his temperature, and then just to stroke through his hair. Martin smiled, leaning into the touch. “Go to sleep, dear.” He heard the older man whisper, and he didn’t hesitate to obey.

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“ _Martin,”_ Douglas grumbled only a morning or so after, turning uncomfortably in the bed. “Martin.” He shouted more insistently, failing to not hurt his already sore and burning throat. Thankfully Martin had heard that second time and came in from the bathroom, at first not sensing that there was anything wrong. However, when he got a closer look at his partner, his pale face and red nose, he gave him a sympathetic look. “Don’t give me that look,” the older man tried to glare at him, though he knew he had probably failed due to sheer exhaustion. “ _You_ did this to me,” he was mad of course, but Martin was suddenly running a hand down his cheek, which he didn’t seem to mind. “You and Arthur, the pair of you.” He sighed, coughing a little. “Neither of you are good at Christmas presents.”

“I know, I’m so sorry.” Martin replied sincerely, though couldn’t help but smile at his partner’s sarcasm which was still constant, despite him seeming so ill.

“Yes, well. Sorry… sorry…” he paused, shutting his eyes tightly. Martin moved back quickly, just in time for Douglas to sneeze over and over.

                “…Isn’t good enough.” The older man mumbled, making Martin chuckle before standing up. “Where are you going?”

“Don’t worry,” the younger man smiled, kissing his partner’s forehead. “I’m just going to get you some cold supplies. I’ll be right back.” he stroked Douglas’ palm with his thumb one last time before being allowed to let go, Douglas smiling despite the pounding of his head and the scratchiness of his throat.


	15. Oh What Fun it is to Ride on a One Horse Open Sleigh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sleigh ride!

“Erm… Douglas?” the older man heard his partner call from the front door which was now letting in a draft.

“What is it?” he asked, resting down his book and going to see why Martin was not yet in his van and on his way to his job. “Yes?” he asked, entering the hallway, noticing the younger man stood by the door, his back to Douglas. The older man placed his hands on Martin’s shoulders, not looking over them and thus not seeing what had caused Martin to pause.

“Look,” Martin spoke in complete bafflement, nodding his head outside. Douglas did then, peering now out of the door and over Martin’s shoulder. He didn’t know how he hadn’t spotted it before, to be honest.

“Oh my,” Douglas spoke, almost speechless. The two stood there for a moment in silence, simply staring at Martin’s removal van. “How on earth did that happen?”

“I leant it to Arthur the other day,” the younger man sighed, and it wasn’t hard for Douglas to put two and two together. “He must have _decorated_ it.” The younger man gulped, using the term ‘decorated’ very loosely. “But _why… Why?”_ he was extremely puzzled by it, squinting his eyes even as if to fathom it.

“Because dear,” Douglas began smirking. “It is almost Christmas, and you gave your van to _Arthur.”_ He almost chuckled at Martin’s expression, but managed to hold back. “Didn’t he say as to why he was ‘borrowing’ your van?”

“No,” Martin shook his head. “Just that he wanted to…” he stopped, realising he had made a mistake when he had just allowed Arthur to borrow it, thinking it was to help him move some of his things to a new flat he and his girlfriend were going to rent out. “ _Surprise me.”_ He instantly put his head in his hands, shaking it at his utter stupidity. It was _Christmas._ Arthur wanted to _surprise_ him. He should have _known_ this sort of thing was bound to happen.

                Douglas led Martin outside, eventually managing to convince him it really didn’t look _too_ bad, and he was sure the customers would understand; it was Christmas after all, and perhaps Martin just wanted to spread some holiday cheer in his now half van half sleigh! Martin had moaned, but realised he couldn’t really afford to let this job go, and so he went anyway.

                “Would you, er…” Martin spoke to Douglas as they stood by the van, Martin hesitant to get in. “Would you like to come along, too?” he asked, a little bashful. Sometimes Douglas did accompany Martin on van jobs, mostly to help, though sometimes just to be a pain and make jokes. Still, the majority of the time he was a help, and it _was_ the holiday season, so it would be nice to spend time with him. Now he was living with Douglas and was getting _something_ from Carolyn he didn’t have to do so many jobs, meaning he could spend more time with his partner. However, they hadn’t had so many flights recently, and so during those times he would have to go on a van job.

“Well,” Douglas began, not finishing before Martin had already jumped to conclusions; why would Douglas want to go out in the freezing cold in the worst decorated sleigh just to schlep boxes around? He was about to speak up, saying it was a stupid idea, before Douglas seemed to realise what he was about to do and continued quickly. “I’m not going to miss my opportunity to enjoy such a festive trip with you, mon amour. It does seem like perfect weather,” he smirked leaning in, making Martin blush slightly. “For a sleigh ride together with you.” Gently, he kissed his partner’s cold lips, before moving away slowly. “We’d perhaps better hurry, though.” The younger man glanced to his watch, eyes widening as he did so.

“Yes- yes, definitely.” He announced, moving quickly into the van, Douglas following immediately.


	16. Christmas Cookies

“Martin!” Emily almost screamed from the kitchen, covered in all sorts of ingredients which turned out were _not_ supposed to be used to make Christmas cookies. “Martin!” her voice screamed higher this time, despite her hearing him come down the stairs. This only made him rush quicker into the kitchen, where he found Emily sat on the stool, head in hands as she shook it in defeat.

“Emily?” he almost whispered, walking over carefully. He let his eyes wander around the kitchen, noticing the complete mess she had made doing God knows what. She seemed to be in absolute despair, sighing when Martin came closer. “What is it?” he asked gently, not wanting yet to complain about the mess.

“I just wanted to make _cookies,”_ she groaned, looking up to him in desperation. “ _Cookies._ I have the recipe, I’ve cooked before. I just don’t understand what went _wrong!”_ she stressed, frustrated by the disaster that had befallen her. Martin sat opposite her, about to speak to comfort her, but clearly she wasn’t done, looking at him again, eyes filled with disappointment. “I thought it’d be fun to just make some Christmas cookies and let you and Dad try them. I wanted to surprise you both, but now _look at this!”_

“Em,” Martin began in a gentle, calming voice. He looked to her, sincerity in his eyes as he spoke. “It’s alright, you know, if you can’t bake cookies. You’ll learn,”

“But I wanted to know how to do them _now,_ to surprise you both!” she interrupted. Martin rolled his eyes playfully rather than insultingly, having gotten used to this sort of behaviour from his husband.

“I know, I know.” He nodded in understanding. “But, perhaps maybe this first time you could use a little help?” he suggested, not trying to undermine her.

“What?” she stared at him, considering the proposal. “But they were for you _and_ Dad.”

“Yes, and they will be.” Martin nodded. “Obviously I’ll help you and show you how to bake them, but you’ll be doing the work and stuff. I’ll just be supervising,” he smiled, then turned to glance around the messy kitchen. “And also probably tidying before Douglas does come home,” he smirked, glancing at Emily accusingly who simply shrugged.

“It’s hardly my fault it’s such a mess.”

“Oh of course not,” Martin simply sighed, folding his arms. “Still, how about it? You’ll still be making the cookies.” Emily considered, before hesitantly nodding and then smiling thankfully.

“That would be good, I think.”

                Douglas entered the house, immediately a delicious smell wafted his way as he entered the living room, and he closed his eyes wondering what it could be. “Ah, Douglas.” Martin entered, smiling as he went over. “You’re home,” Douglas returned his smile, distracted from the smell for a moment. “Emily has something for you. In the kitchen,” he indicated, nodding over.

“Yes, what _is_ that? What have you been up to?” he stared at Martin questioningly, though his partner was giving nothing away. Hesitantly, he wandered over to the kitchen and peeked his head around the door before actually entering, not being able to see anything. Martin followed, winking at Emily when her father spotted the festive treats and Emily was telling him all about it – conveniently forgetting her mental breakdown in between batches and skipping straight to the good batch.

                “These are _amazing,”_ Martin and Douglas both agreed upon tasting the biscuits, savouring each taste.

“Well, I am very good.” Emily commented, causing Martin to shoot a playful glare her way. She didn’t falter however, managing to keep up her façade, which Martin really didn’t mind.

“Stop scoffing them _all!”_ Emily shooed them away, having watched them take almost half each.

“What? I thought these were for us?” Douglas asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yes, but _I_ do want at least one! And at this rate it doesn’t seem likely I will,” she scolded the pair, finally grabbing one for herself.


	17. Traditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New holiday traditions!

“Erm… Emily? What are you doing?” Martin looked over to Douglas’ daughter who was sat by the tree carefully inspecting each of her gifts.

“I’m wondering which gift to open today.” She spoke hardly paying him any attention as she focused solely on the decision making.

“What?” Martin almost shouted, which seemed to catch her attention. She looked up a little confused, staring at him waiting for him to continue and raising an eyebrow when he refused to elaborate. “It’s Christmas _Eve._ Not Christmas _Day._ You’re not supposed to open anything today!” he reasoned, placing his tea down in order to get his point across properly.

“Relax, Dad lets me do it every year.” She rolled her eyes as if he were being incredibly over dramatic – which he certainly was – and turned back to her gifts. “It’s only _one_ present, what harm is it?”

“You shouldn’t open _any_ presents!” he refused to back down. “Doesn’t it spoil it?”

“Hardly; it’s only one little gift. Doesn’t change anything.”

“But the point of it all is to open all your gifts on Christmas day so then it’s a nice surprise and everything. Opening a gift now is just ridiculous and if you can’t wait _one_ day then…” he sighed, realising he was not getting anywhere with this.

                “What’s going on?” Douglas entered, hearing the discussion from upstairs. He looked at the two confused, as if trying to figure out the matter before either of them said it. Unfortunately he got nowhere, and so Emily spoke up before Martin could.

“Martin _never_ opened a present _before_ Christmas day.” Emily spoke dramatically as if it were something serious. Douglas then looked over to the younger man, a perplexed expression on his face.

“Well, it’s just that er, I saw Emily looking at which gift to open and I don’t know… It’s just never something _I_ did. I was confused, that’s all.” He muttered, realising neither of them was going to see it from his point of view, and so he may as well join them in their crazy holiday traditions.

“How about you start this Christmas, then?” Emily suggested before Douglas could say anything. “You don’t have to pick a huge one or anything, if that will spoil it for you,” she teased but smiled at him. “It’ll be fun.” Martin deliberated, wanting to join this tradition that Douglas and his family had, but not wanting to abandon his traditions. He looked up at Douglas in hope that he had the answer.

“Why don’t you, dear?” the older man smiled, and then nodded to the stockings. Martin was confused, wondering why. Then he remembered hanging them with Douglas, and what his partner had told him was going in them. Clearly Douglas had allowed some of Martin’s holiday traditions into his life, so perhaps Martin should do the same for him.

                With that reasoning, he settled himself beside Emily and scanned his gifts as carefully as she had, contemplating which would be best to open that evening; one that would be good, but not _so_ good that it would top anything he opened tomorrow. “Hm… This may take a while,” Douglas rolled his eyes as he watched the two pick out their gifts.


	18. Winter Wonderland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snowed in/blizzard!

“Looks like we won’t be going anywhere today, dear.” Douglas sighed, looking out of the window as the snow poured down constantly, having actually blocked their front door. Martin sighed, going over to look out as well at the lovely, but annoying, weather. “I suppose we’ll just have to find a way to entertain ourselves,” he turned to his husband, winking. Martin blushed a little, but smirked back.

“I suppose it’s all we _can_ do,” he sighed, pretending to be disappointed. Part of him _was_ in fact slightly disappointed, having wanted to take Douglas around Duxford just because. It was their day off, Martin had no van jobs and they could just be together. Still, he smiled to Douglas, not being totally put off by the alternative.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well dear, you never fail to surprise me.” Douglas smirked, entering the bedroom with two hot chocolates with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. Martin looked out from the cupboard full of board games, having already pulled out several and placed them on the bed in a random order. “When I said we’d have to find a way to entertain ourselves,” he spoke as he placed the two drinks on the bedside table. “I did actually mean something else entirely.” At this Martin blushed, hiding a little back in the cupboard.

“Yes, I- I know.” He nodded, heaving yet another game from the top of the cupboard. Douglas was thankful he had put them there now, watching in delight Martin stretch a little awkwardly but not in the least bit unflattering way, having the perfect view. “But we can’t do that _all_ day.” He reasoned, to which Douglas quirked an eyebrow. “Shut up,” the younger man chuckled, despite having his back to the First Officer.

“Fine, I suppose we can play one of these ridiculous games.” He glanced at those that had been dumped on the bed, grimacing as he noticed some games he didn’t even remember buying and wondering _why_ he had. “I am _not_ playing this, however.” He spoke sternly, lifting up the Monopoly box as his partner turned.

“What?” the Captain asked, a confused expression across his face. “I thought that game would be something you would enjoy! Taking everybody’s money, tricking people, that sort of thing.” Martin teased playfully.

“Yes, I do. However, it is nearly the holidays, and I would rather we stayed together in this time.”

“Oh, come _on!_ It’s not _that_ bad!”

“Martin, we _both_ know you hate to lose.”

“Ah, I see.” Martin raised an eyebrow challengingly. “You’re so convinced you’ll win, are you?”

“Dear, I _win_ at _everything._ Whilst you, on the other hand, do not. Can you understand why I would be so convinced?”

“ _I_ don’t think you’ll win.” Martin argued, moving closer. “I think you just don’t want to lose, that’s why you won’t play.”

“Now come on, Martin. Out of those two possible reasons, which seems the more likely one?”

“I suppose there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” he smirked, glaring at his partner.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I _told_ you so,” Douglas smirked, watching the money scatter to the floor as Martin jumped up from his seat in frustration and stormed into the kitchen.

“Shut up.” Martin grumbled, ignoring the chuckle leaving his husband’s mouth.


	19. Christmas Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter was supposed to be cuddling by the fire, but I've already done that! So I thought I'd pick something different - Christmas cards!

Arthur’s Christmas cards were definitely more brilliant than last year’s, he beamed, folding each one into their envelopes. Last year, his mother had refused to be in it completely, even when he had tried to trick her! She had foiled his plans and got out of the way right before the photo could be taken, hence the blur by the front door and Arthur’s puzzled expression as an uncomfortable Snoopadoop struggled out of his arms. Douglas had laughed though, not in a mocking way. Skip had thanked him for the “unusual” card, which also exploded with glitter, getting his uniform all messed up. Skip wasn’t too happy about that, though he didn’t scold Arthur too much, it being the holiday season and all.

                Anyway, this year his cards were great! Carolyn was actually in this card, as well as Herc, and they didn’t seem too put off by it! In fact, it had been thanks to Herc that Arthur had managed to persuade Carolyn to be in the card without having any second thoughts, or having to be tricked to be in it. Even Snoopadoop was behaving herself, which was a miracle. She allowed Arthur to hold her as they stood waiting for their camera to click. Everyone seemed happy, and Arthur was happy to send these off to Douglas, Skip, Wendy, all of his neighbours, Tiffany and so many other people!

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This card is great Arthur, thank you.” Martin smiled to him sincerely, but then looked over to Douglas who opened the same card. “But, y-you do know you didn’t have to get us both one? We live in the same house,” he reasoned, but immediately stopped himself as he noticed Arthur’s smile drop a little. “B-but still, it’s really good!” he tried to rescue himself.

“Yes, definitely better than last year.” Thankfully Douglas came and stepped in, placing an arm around Martin’s waist. “And this just means that we have _two_ to put up, so thank you Arthur.” He nodded honestly, making Arthur smile once more, forgetting Martin’s comment. “Anyway, here is ours,” Douglas changed the subject, handing Arthur their own card which probably hadn’t been as much hassle to make as Arthur’s had. “No, there isn’t two, but hopefully it’ll be just as good.”

“Thanks, chaps!” Arthur cheered, opening up his own envelope and looking inside. He pulled the card out carefully and inspected it. Martin was stood to Douglas’ right, smiling straight at the camera. It wasn’t his forced smile when he was trying to persuade someone he was alright, when he was pretending to be happy, or the one he put on for customers, or even that tired smile. It was his genuine smile. Then there was Douglas, also smiling genuinely, rather than using his smug pilot smile. Beside him there was Emily who seemed as well to be very happy with the two. Arthur smiled at the similarities she shared with her father, and then looked in the card at the message left for him. “That’s brilliant!” Arthur smiled, though felt now a little disappointed by his own card.

“Hm, well.” Martin smiled as well, catching the photo on the card and thinking about it all again. He really had felt like a part of their family, then.

“Of course, it isn’t as brilliant as your card.” Douglas patted the steward’s shoulder.

“What?”

“You successfully managed to get Carolyn and that dog in a picture without so much trouble! That’s definitely got to make your card the best.” Martin nodded, agreeing.

“Really? You think so?”

“Of course,” the pair spoke together.

“Wow, thanks chaps! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Arthur.”


End file.
